since then…it just didn’t seem all that important.”
“Not that important?” She scoffs. “Imagine the conversation at work: ‘Oh, hi Renee. I heard your daughter is going to graduate from the Ivy League this year, no big deal, right?’”
She looks at me…waiting…and then she starts to laugh.
The tension oozes out of me. “You’re teasing?”
“Of course I’m teasing! I’m so proud of you! To think, my daughter, an Ivy League grad, and now linked with a certain Jeremy Stonehart? You’ve got your whole life set. And me?” She glances down at herself. “What you must think of me. Some example I am, huh?”
“Mom, don’t,” I say. “I’m not here for that.”
“And I’m changing the subject as usual. Back to Paul. Right? To your father? The reason I told you those things about him, Lilly, is because …because he hurt me. I was upset, and angry. You don’t understand. How could you? You haven’t experienced heartache of the kind—”
She stops, and looks at me. An eyebrow goes up. “Or, have you? I hope that’s not the reason you showed up. You and Jeremy Stonehart, you’re still…”
“Joined at the hip,” I say drily.
“Where is he? Is he here with you? Do I get to meet him?” She barks a harsh laugh. “Yeah, right. As if you’d introduce me to someone like him.”
“It’s not that, mom,” I say. “Jeremy’s in California. Working. Where I should be. In fact, you and I don’t have much time. I’m going back tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? But you just showed up! We’ve got five years of catching up to do, Lilly. I don’t know what you’ve been doing, how you’ve been—well, aside from the stories that were printed this week. But you told me not to trust them…”
“You shouldn’t,” I say. “They always blow things out of proportion. Wait until you hear it from me.”
“I’m here, aren’t I? I’m listening? That’s what we’re doing.” She sighs. “But I guess you want to know more about your father. About Paul?”
“Yes,” I say. “Why did he leave after I was born? How come he never stuck around?”
Renee exhales. “Drugs,” she says. “He was always chasing a high. I thought I could change him. I thought I could fix him, help him heal.” She gives a sad, little laugh and shakes her head. “As all women do when they’re young, in love, and don’t know any better. Men don’t change, Lilly. If there’s one thing you can learn from my pitiful life, it’s that. God knows it’s taken me too long to figure it out myself.”
“And…where did he go, after I was born?”
Renee makes a vague weaving motion through the air with her hand. “Away. Somewhere. I don’t know. I didn’t keep tabs. In fact, I thought it best for us to have a clean break. When I got pregnant with you, Lilly, I hoped that a child could unite us. I hoped that you would be reason enough for him to change.” She looks away, at the far wall. I can see her fighting the emotions that threaten to rise up.
“I was stupid,” she announces finally. “Stupid and wrong. There is no changing men like that.”
“And after?” I probe softly. “How did you guys…get back together?”
“He found us,” she says with a sigh. “Claimed he’d cleaned up. Said he couldn’t stop thinking about—well, about you. About the family he left behind. He begged me to give him a second chance.”
“And you did?” I ask.
“No,” she says. “Not right away. I was still wary. I wanted him to prove his dedication. To show that he didn’t want you to suffer the way I had. He begged to see you. I said no. He’d left us once, left me on my own to raise you. He just thought he could show up nine years after and pop back into our lives as if nothing had ever gone wrong?”
“Wait, nine years?” I ask. “I remember that summer at his cabin. I was twelve!”
“What, you think I took him back right away? Hell no. I couldn’t just forgive him like that.” She snaps her fingers.
“Not that important?” She scoffs. “Imagine the conversation at work: ‘Oh, hi Renee. I heard your daughter is going to graduate from the Ivy League this year, no big deal, right?’”
She looks at me…waiting…and then she starts to laugh.
The tension oozes out of me. “You’re teasing?”
“Of course I’m teasing! I’m so proud of you! To think, my daughter, an Ivy League grad, and now linked with a certain Jeremy Stonehart? You’ve got your whole life set. And me?” She glances down at herself. “What you must think of me. Some example I am, huh?”
“Mom, don’t,” I say. “I’m not here for that.”
“And I’m changing the subject as usual. Back to Paul. Right? To your father? The reason I told you those things about him, Lilly, is because …because he hurt me. I was upset, and angry. You don’t understand. How could you? You haven’t experienced heartache of the kind—”
She stops, and looks at me. An eyebrow goes up. “Or, have you? I hope that’s not the reason you showed up. You and Jeremy Stonehart, you’re still…”
“Joined at the hip,” I say drily.
“Where is he? Is he here with you? Do I get to meet him?” She barks a harsh laugh. “Yeah, right. As if you’d introduce me to someone like him.”
“It’s not that, mom,” I say. “Jeremy’s in California. Working. Where I should be. In fact, you and I don’t have much time. I’m going back tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? But you just showed up! We’ve got five years of catching up to do, Lilly. I don’t know what you’ve been doing, how you’ve been—well, aside from the stories that were printed this week. But you told me not to trust them…”
“You shouldn’t,” I say. “They always blow things out of proportion. Wait until you hear it from me.”
“I’m here, aren’t I? I’m listening? That’s what we’re doing.” She sighs. “But I guess you want to know more about your father. About Paul?”
“Yes,” I say. “Why did he leave after I was born? How come he never stuck around?”
Renee exhales. “Drugs,” she says. “He was always chasing a high. I thought I could change him. I thought I could fix him, help him heal.” She gives a sad, little laugh and shakes her head. “As all women do when they’re young, in love, and don’t know any better. Men don’t change, Lilly. If there’s one thing you can learn from my pitiful life, it’s that. God knows it’s taken me too long to figure it out myself.”
“And…where did he go, after I was born?”
Renee makes a vague weaving motion through the air with her hand. “Away. Somewhere. I don’t know. I didn’t keep tabs. In fact, I thought it best for us to have a clean break. When I got pregnant with you, Lilly, I hoped that a child could unite us. I hoped that you would be reason enough for him to change.” She looks away, at the far wall. I can see her fighting the emotions that threaten to rise up.
“I was stupid,” she announces finally. “Stupid and wrong. There is no changing men like that.”
“And after?” I probe softly. “How did you guys…get back together?”
“He found us,” she says with a sigh. “Claimed he’d cleaned up. Said he couldn’t stop thinking about—well, about you. About the family he left behind. He begged me to give him a second chance.”
“And you did?” I ask.
“No,” she says. “Not right away. I was still wary. I wanted him to prove his dedication. To show that he didn’t want you to suffer the way I had. He begged to see you. I said no. He’d left us once, left me on my own to raise you. He just thought he could show up nine years after and pop back into our lives as if nothing had ever gone wrong?”
“Wait, nine years?” I ask. “I remember that summer at his cabin. I was twelve!”
“What, you think I took him back right away? Hell no. I couldn’t just forgive him like that.” She snaps her fingers.
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